


Pillow Talk

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Trans Male Character, implied past ephrim/hadrian/samot/samothes, set during an unspecified time during SiH but nothing spoilery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 07:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18655381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: With Ephrim, dirty talk is never justtalk.





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madelinestarr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinestarr/gifts).



> for maddie, for their birthday

 

It’s maybe a little unusual. Throndir doesn’t know - his metrics for what standard behaviour out of Aniq has always been off and, anyway, this is the longest he’s ever been in a relationship with anyone. Maybe this is customary, for the rest of Hieron. Maybe it’s just him and Ephrim, fumbling through something.

 

It probably doesn’t matter, not when it makes Ephrim’s eyes  _ glint _ like that, his hands scorching hot on Throndir’s skin.

 

Ephrim leans up, pressing the line of his body against Throndir’s, his hands trailing along Throndir’s arm before he catches Throndir’s wrists, pinning them over Throndir’s head. Ephrim kisses a line up Throndir’s neck, his voice low in Throndir’s ear.

 

“I saw you looking at him again today.”

 

Throndir arches up, pushing a little against Ephrim’s grip. They both know that he could break free, if he wanted to. They both know he doesn’t want to.

 

“I  _ saw _ you,” says Ephrim again, “when Hadrian was down by the river, helping to make the new pier.”

 

“I- I don’t-”

 

He breaks off in a whine as Ephrim shifts to straddle him, his hands still tight on Throndir’s wrists.

 

“You know I don’t mind,” says Ephrim, smirking down at him, “After all, I can certainly appreciate how he looks, shedding armour and clothing as the day goes on.”

 

Throndir tries to formulate a response in the white-hot haze of his mind. It’s an impossible task, especially when Ephrim begins to shift his hips, still looking as poised and regal as ever above him despite the line of hickies that Throndir had left earlier, trailing across his chest.

 

“I’ve been known to appreciate it myself from time to time,” says Ephrim.

 

“Really?” Throndir manages.

 

Ephrim hums, grinding down on Throndir sharply. Throndir bites his lip, trying to muffle the sound. He is, as ever, thankful for the thick stone walls of Ephrim’s chosen room.

 

“Oh yes,” says Ephrim casually, as though they were across the planning table from one another, discussing grain stores and the month’s schedule. “There’s a lot to appreciate - much of which you have in common of course.”

 

Ephrim lets go of his wrists, running his hands down Throndir’s arms appreciatively. Throndir shivers. He keeps his arms where they were, a difficult task but one that he know he’ll be rewarded for, in the long run.

 

“You have similar builds,” murmurs Ephrim, “big, strong bodies meant for action, although his is more bent towards  _ service _ than yours.”

 

Throndir shivers again at that, the particular tone of which Ephrim says  _ service _ .

 

Ephrim grins, and Throndir knows he’s absolutely done for.

 

“Yes, I think you would both enjoy that,” says Ephrim, “Hadrian here on his knees and you borrowing my throne. Perhaps I would dress you up a little, if you would let me, layers of finery for him to slowly peel back for me. Would you like that?”

 

Throndir whines, his fingers curling and uncurling in the empty air. Ephrim runs a lazy finger across his palms and Throndir clutches at it, tangling their fingers together.

 

Ephrim’s smile deepens for a moment, something equally warm but softer around the edges, and he presses a kiss to Throndir’s lips. Despite the chasteness of it, it doesn’t damper the fire in Throndir’s belly. When he tries to deepen the kiss, Ephrim pulls back, huffing a laugh as Throndir tries to follow his lips.

 

“You’re not usually so shy,” says Ephrim, teasing, “come on.”

 

Throndir groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “God, I just- if it were even possible that he could be here…”

 

“It’s  _ very _ possible,” says Ephrim.

 

Throndir huffs a laugh. “Babe I know you’re good, but you’re not  _ that _ good.”

 

Ephrim draws himself back up to full height. “ _ Excuse _ me?”

 

“Well, you know, because Hadrian’s… you know.”

 

Ephrim blinks down at him for a moment before he breaks into laughter.

 

Throndir pushes himself up a little. “What?” 

 

“That man,” says Ephrim, “is  _ not _ straight.”

 

“What,” says Throndir, “wait how are you so sure?”

 

Ephrim  _ smirks _ .

 

“What?!” says Throndir.

 

Ephrim grins, leaning down to kiss Throndir again. Throndir can feel Ephrim laugh into his mouth.

 

“So you see, it’s _ definitely _ possible,” says Ephrim.

 

Throndir groans, flopping back down on the bed and covering his eyes. “I can’t believe I could have been making moves for  _ years _ and no one  _ told _ me.”

 

Ephrim laughs, leaning down and tugging Throndir’s hand away from his eyes. He presses a kiss to Throndir’s palm.

 

“Hmm. Would it help if I told you…”

 

“Told me what?”

 

Ephrim leans down further, the full weight of him pressed against the length of Throndir’s body. “I mean, I have plenty of tales I could tell you about Hadrian.”

 

“Oh?” says Throndir.

 

He would embarrassed about the breathiness of his tone if it weren’t for the pink flush in Ephrim’s cheeks.

 

“Oh yes,” says Ephrim, “but there are so many, where to start?”

 

Ephrim shifts, sliding his leg in between Throndir’s thighs, the sensation making his whine. He can feel Ephrim’s slick on his skin, can see the way Ephrim’s composure slips, just a fraction, an unsteady inhale.

 

Throndir runs his hands along Ephrim’s back, pulling him down, close. There’s less friction in this position but he wants to be touching  _ more _ of Ephrim, he  _ needs _ to be touching more of Ephrim. Ephrim’s hands curl against Throndir’s chest, sliding up and tangling in Throndir’s hair, tugging him in for a kiss.

 

Throndir forgets they were talking about anything at all, for a while. They become uncomplicated bodies together, his only purpose in life becomes coaxing a high, breathy sound from Ephrim’s lips.

 

“I could tell you,” says Ephrim, inhaling sharply as Throndir arches against him, “I could tell you of times between me and Hadrian and Samot and Samothes.”

 

Throndir clutches at him, burying his face in Ephrim’s neck. Ephrim has barely touched him, not directly, but he feels so close that he’s wild with it, mouthing sloppy kisses along Ephrim’s collarbone.

 

“More than a few times they came to us both,” says Ephrim, “and Hadrian has never been one for denying his gods anything. He would have done anything they asked of him. He  _ did _ do anything they asked of him.”

 

Throndir shudders, his moan a little louder than he’d meant to let himself. Ephrim pulls them closer together, his hand trailing over Throndir’s belly, still barely touching him. Throndir moans again, on a knife’s edge.

 

“A dream that wasn’t quite a dream,” says Ephrim, and Throndir can hear the smirk in his voice again, “and oh, Hadrian was so glad to be there, so glad to be of service to all three of us, glad to give himself over in every way that he could-”

 

Throndir comes in a hot rush, clutching tight at Ephrim’s shoulder. He can feel Ephrim running a hand along his side as he comes back to himself. With great effort he turns his head, blinking up at Ephrim.

 

“ _ Well _ ,” says Ephrim.

 

Throndir groans, feeling his cheeks flush. “Don’t.”

 

Ephrim pauses for a moment, brushing Throndir’s hair back from his face.

 

“We  _ could  _ always invite him over for dinner,” says Ephrim.

 

Throndir rolls closer, pressing his face into Ephrim’s chest again. Ephrim laughs, the sound turning into a gasp as Throndir shifts his thigh.

 

“Oh,” says Throndir, “Sorry, do you want me to...”

 

“ _ Such _ a gentleman, however did I-  _ Oh _ -”

 

They become uncomplicated bodies again, for a while.

  
  
  


Ephrim, of course, doesn’t forget, and he does invite Hadrian over for dinner.

 

Throndir blushes, stumbling through small talk and trying not to look at either of them for too long - Ephrim, because his look is far too knowing, and Hadrian, because… well. It’s been difficult to get what Ephrim had told him out of his head.

 

Ephrim clears their plates, putting a hand on Throndir’s shoulder as he tries to stand to help. His fingers trail along the back of Throndir’s neck as he lets go, and Throndir shivers.

 

Hadrian shoots him a look. He clears his throat.

 

Throndir presses his lips together.

 

“Throndir, are you-”

 

“Listen, Hadrian, I’m-”

 

They both break off, looking at each other for a moment.

 

“Uh, you go-”

 

“You should-”

 

They both break off again. Hadrian blinks at him, then laughs, rubbing a hand over his face. Throndir feels some of the tension uncoil from his shoulders.

 

Throndir holds up a hand. “You go first.”

 

Hadrian laughs. “Sure. I-” His expression shifts a little, the lines of concern coming back to his face. “Are you… okay?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” says Throndir, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“Well,” says Hadrian.

 

“Well, yeah, apart from the end of the world.”

 

Hadrian huffs a laugh. “Yeah.” He pauses. “I don’t know, you’ve just seemed… tense… tonight. And I wanted to- if I’ve done something to offend you-”

 

“No,” says Throndir quickly, “It’s nothing, you’re good.”

 

“But there is  _ something _ ,” says Hadrian.

 

Throndir’s not really sure  _ what _ to say at that (certainly the first thing that came to mind was  _ absolutely _ inappropriate), so he looks down at his hands instead.

 

Hadrian leans in closer, putting a hand on Throndir’s arm. Throndir does his best to muffle his sharp inhale, his body tense in an effort not to lean towards Hadrian.

 

“You can tell me,” says Hadrian.

 

Throndir looks up, swallowing hard as he meets Hadrian’s gaze. He wants to tell him, he wants… he  _ wants _ -

 

“Ah,” says Ephrim, “good.”

 

Hadrian flinches, leaning back in his seat so fast it rocks a little. “I, uh, hey, Ephrim. All, uh, all done?”

 

“Yes,” says Ephrim. He has that dangerous look to him again, his eyes glittering and smile sharp. “I have an idea for dessert, if you’re interested.”

 

“Uh. Sure,” says Hadrian, “Do you, uh. Do you need a hand with it?”

 

The dangerous look dissolves. Ephrim looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “That’s certainly the idea.”

 

“What?” says Hadrian.

 

Ephrim steps closer, putting a hand under Hadrian’s chin so that Hadrian is looking up at him. He rubs his thumb along Hadrian’s bottom lip and Hadrian’s eyes flutter. Ephrim leans down-

 

Ephrim leans down and across Hadrian, kissing Throndir. Throndir makes a noise of surprise, quickly lost to the heat of it. He clutches Ephrim’s arm, his other hand a vice grip on his chair.

 

Hadrian makes a small whimpering noise, breaking Throndir from his trace. He pulls back, leaning around Ephrim slightly to see Hadrian, a flush visible even on his dark skin and his pupils blown wide. Ephrim still has ahold of Hadrian’s chin, keeping his eyes fixed towards them. Throndir feels a pulse of heat flash through him, his toes curling in his boots.

 

Ephrim lets go of them both, leaning back with a satisfied look. “So.”

 

“Ah. I should,” says Hadrian, his voice hoarse, “I should-”

 

“Stay,” says Throndir.

 

Hadrian’s eyes go to him, burning.

 

Throndir swallows. “I mean, if you want. We’d both like you to-and Ephrim told me, uh. I mean-”

 

Hadrian’s eyes flick between Ephrim and Throndir. “I…”

 

Throndir touches the hand of Hadrian’s hand, tentative. “I know I’m not exactly godlike-”

 

Hadrian’s eyes widen. “That’s not- I mean, you  _ must _ know that you- uh.”

 

Throndir feels himself flush. “Oh! Well, uh, I mean. Same to you, I guess?”

 

“Really?” says Hadrian, “I, uh, I mean-”

 

Ephrim’s sharp laugh makes them both look towards him. “How do either of you get  _ anywhere _ ?”

 

“I thought that’s what we had you for,” says Throndir.

 

Ephrim’s smile turns sharp. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” He looks to Hadrian. ”You’re staying?”

 

Hadrian nods. “I mean, if you’d-”

 

“We would,” says Ephrim.

 

Hadrian bites his lip. “I- then, yes, of course.”

 

Ephrim turns towards Throndir. “There, you see? Of course.”

 

“There’s no need to-”

 

He’s cut off by Ephrim’s kiss, and he gives himself over to it. Ephrim slides into his lap, his hands tight in Throndir’s hair. Throndir clumsily tries to rid Ephrim of his shirt, his hands bumping into Hadrian’s. He breaks off the kiss, startled, and Hadrian blinks back.

 

“Sorry, I just-”

 

Ephrim puts a finger to Hadrian’s lips. “No, no. Your participation in  _ encouraged _ .”

 

Ephrim leans forward to kiss him, leaning awkwardly over the arm of the chair. Throndir watches them for a long moment, mesmerized by the tilt of Hadrian’s body, by the way Ephrim cups the back of Hadrian’s head, keeping him close even when they break for air.

 

Throndir returns to Ephrim’s shirt, managing to get it off after only half a dozen attempts. Ephrim makes a pleased noise as it drops to the floor, breaking off from Hadrian to look back at him. Throndir feels himself flush under Ephrim’s gaze.

 

Ephrim leans forward to kiss him, slow and deep, letting Throndir chase after his lips when he leans away for air. Throndir can hear Hadrian’s ragged breathing beside them. His hand brushes Throndir’s on Ephrim’s waist as Ephrim leans back again.

 

He hums, thoughtful, smiling that dangerous smile. Ephrim runs a hand along Hadrian’s scalp and Hadrian leans into his touch. Throndir swallows, his throat suddenly dry.

 

“I think I would like to move elsewhere,” says Ephrim, only sounding a little out of breath.

 

Throndir can only nod, blinking up at Ephrim as he stands in front of them. Ephrim raises an eyebrow at him, turning to head towards their bedroom without a look back.

 

Throndir clears his throat, standing and offering Hadrian a hand. “Uh.”

 

Hadrian takes it, letting Throndir pull him up, their bodies close together. It barely takes a breath to lean in, the touch of their lips igniting a fire in Throndir’s belly. Hadrian makes a soft sound, his hands clutching at Throndir’s shirt. Throndir can feel him, where they’re pressed together, another more sudden jolt of heat going through him.

 

“Come on,” says Throndir.

 

Hadrian follows close behind him. They both stumble to a stop at the bedroom door.

 

Ephrim has shed the rest of his clothes, touching himself lazily as he looks at them, one eyebrow raised.

 

“Took you both long enough.”

 

He waves them both closer. Hadrian falls to his knees at the edge of the bed, and Throndir feels his breath catch in his throat at the sight. He hovers behind Hadrian, his fingers curling, wanting to touch.

 

Ephrim cups Hadrian’s cheek, looking up at Throndir. “I told you.”

 

Throndir flushes again. “Well. Yeah, but-”

 

“Hadrian,” says Ephrim, “help Throndir, will you?”

 

Hadrian gets to his feet, pressing his lips together to muffle a whine. His hands are clumsy as he slowly strips Throndir, pausing to kiss at the newly-bared skin as Ephrim murmurs words of encouragement from the bed. He goes to his knees again to pull off Throndir’s boots and pants, his hands running along the outside of Throndir’s thighs for a moment before he looks back to Ephrim.

 

Ephrim hums. “Well?”

 

Throndir makes a choked noise, the sound turning into a moan as Hadrian leans forward to lick at him. He’s fervent, as dedicated to this task as any work of god or charity Throndir has seen him take part in, his whole being focussed towards the cause of making Throndir absolutely lose his mind.

 

Throndir can feel his knees shaking as he gets close, clutching as Hadrian’s shoulder for support. Ephrim’s arms slide around him from behind, making him gasp at the unexpected touch. He hadn't even noticed Ephrim get off the bed. 

 

Ephrim makes a soothing sound, pressing feather-light kisses along Throndir’s jaw. “We’ve got you.”

 

Throndir relaxes back against him, the change in angle of Hadrian mouth making him shudder and cry out, held safe by Hadrian and Ephrim’s arms around him.

 

They both help him to the bed where the relaxes back, boneless against the sheets.

 

Ephrim turns, running a thumb over Hadrian’s slick mouth. “Good.”

 

Hadrian gasps, letting Ephrim push his thumb into Hadrian’s mouth, then two fingers. Throndir’s eyes lazily track the flush spreading across Ephrim’s skin, down towards the wetness at his thighs. He’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be, after all.

 

Throndir reaches for him, pulling Ephrim onto the bed, clumsily settling Ephrim in-between his legs. Ephrim wiggles slightly and Throndir gasps a little, still sensitive. He bats Ephrim’s hands away from him, running his hands down Ephrim’s chest towards the heat of him.

 

Hadrian watches, eyes hungry, from the edge of the bed, his hips twitching in time with the movement of Throndir’s hand.

 

“You’ve been so good to me,” says Throndir quietly, into Ephrim’s ear, “What can I do for  _ you _ ?”

 

“Just don’t  _ stop _ ,” says Ephrim.

 

Throndir kisses the side of his neck. “That part I knew. But I mean to do more.”

 

Ephrim makes a questioning sound, lost to a gasp as Throndir crooks his fingers.

 

“Hadrian,” says Throndir.

 

Hadrian’s eyes snap back to Throndir’s face.

 

“Come here,” says Throndir, “help me with him.”

 

Hadrian crawls towards them, biting his lip. Ephrim reaches out, pulling him the rest of the way forward into a bruising kiss, moaning into Hadrian’s mouth. Throndir can hear Hadrian whimpering on each exhale.

 

Hadrian’s hand joins Throndir’s, guided down by Ephrim, and Ephrim groans, throwing his head back on Throndir’s shoulder. Throndir can feel how close he is, his body trembling in their arms.

 

“Hadrian,” says Throndir again.

 

Hadrian leans forward, kissing sloppily down Ephrim’s chest. Ephrim’s nails dig into his shoulders, and he shudders, moaning into Ephrim’s skin.

 

Throndir can feel Ephrim clench around his fingers, gasping for air. They work him through it slowly, until he pushes their hands away. Ephrim stretches, all loose-limbed satisfaction, drawing Throndir in for a slow kiss before he turns back to Hadrian.

 

“Huh,” says Ephrim, sounding a little amused.

 

Hadrian shifts awkwardly on his knees, the wet patch on his trousers visible even on the dark fabric. “I uh. You’re just both very, um. I.”

 

Throndir laughs. “You can borrow something of mine tomorrow.”

 

Hadrian blinks. “Oh, I-”

 

“Yes, you should take that off before you lie down,” says Ephrim, “hurry up.”

 

Hadrian scrambles, his clothes left in a tangled pile with their own on the floor in short order. He hesitates at the side of the bed before Ephrim pull him in towards them, settling him between them both. 

 

Throndir runs a hand over his chest, flushing as he catches Ephrim’s eye. “Listen.”

 

“I didn’t say a word,” says Ephrim.

 

“Mmm?” says Hadrian.

 

Throndir leans in to kiss him instead of answering, which Hadrian doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. The heat of it grows until Ephrim tilts Hadrian’s head towards his as Hadrian and Throndir take a breath, capturing Hadrian in a kiss. Throndir presses closer, half-lying on Hadrian as he watches, his hand stroking over Hadrian’s chest.

 

He can feel Hadrian begin to harden against him again, shifting against Hadrian until he break off with a groan. Ephrim grins at the state of him. Throndir imagines he probably looks in a similar state himself.

 

Ephrim draws him into a kiss over Hadrian, murmuring what he’d told Throndir of the dreams he and Hadrian had shared. Hadrian makes a strangled sound, and Ephrim looks down at him, grinning.

 

“Throndir, could you show our guest what I mean?”

 

“ _ Please _ ,” says Hadrian.

 

He sinks down onto Hadrian in one smooth motion, groaning loud enough that it seems to echo in the small room. Hadrian pants beneath him, his hands clutching at the bedsheets, Ephrim’s shoulder, Throndir’s arm.

 

Ephrim muffles Hadrian’s moan with a kiss, his hands sliding down Hadrian’s chest and belly to touch Throndir. Throndir cries out, tossing his head back, his eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming sensation.

 

He can feel Ephrim shift, the bed underneath them moving and then the sounds of Hadrian are quieter, muffled under Ephrim’s body. Throndir gasps out a curse, his hips jolting at the sight of Ephrim grinding down onto Hadrian’s mouth. His rhythm falls into line with Ephrim’s, his own hand falling down his body to replace where Ephrim’s had been.

 

Ephrim looks over his shoulder at him, flushed and panting. Throndir reaches out and brushes his hair back with his free hand and Ephrim grasps it, kissing his palm. His eyes travel up Throndir’s body and across Hadrian’s.

 

“Beautiful,” says Ephrim.

 

It doesn’t take much longer for Throndir to come, watching as Ephrim tips over the edge. Hadrian whimpers as Throndir slides off, making noise as Throndir takes him into his hand, the barest movement making Hadrian spill over his hand.

 

They lie together, tangled and sweaty for a moment, before Ephrim makes a complaining noise, wiggling and weakly trying to pull the blankets from underneath them. Throndir manages it, making a pleased noise as Ephrim settles against his side, one leg thrown over him.

 

Hadrian clears his throat. “I, uh-”

 

Ephrim makes another complaining noise, grabbing at Hadrian’s arm and pulling him towards them.

 

“Talk later,” mumbles Ephrim.

 

“Sure,” says Hadrian, “But I-”

 

Ephrim curls an arm around Hadrian’s waist.

 

Hadrian huffs a laugh. “Well, okay. Later.”

 

Throndir presses a kiss to the back of Ephrim’s head. It’s easy to fall asleep in the warmth of their bed.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
